


Take a chance on me

by Chatote



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fix-it fic, Idiots, Romance, S3 E8, What the Hell, argon - Freeform, date, fic case, i mean Ellie did ask which makes Hardy the only idiot here, i'm actually writing a fic case, take a bloody hold on your life Hardy, take courage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:02:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chatote/pseuds/Chatote
Summary: A fix-it fic for the end on season 3. Takes place during/after the last scene, when they're sitting on the bench. Hardy takes a decision.





	1. Proposition

_“See you tomorrow, Miller“_

 

Hardy looked at her as she headed away, walking leisurely toward the parking where she’ll take her car and drive back to her family. Her head was turned toward the sea, hidden from him by those long black hair stirred alive by the wind. Following her example, he turned away and started his way home. Still forbidden to drive, he had a long walk ahead. In his back, down the path, the waves were crashing on the wall and families were arriving on the beach, bringing with them towels, music and shouts.

On the side of the path, a young woman wearing a blue and white stripped uniform — probably a college student — was selling 99 and hot dogs. The mere smell of it made him sick. After days of wondering whether or not he should ask Miller out, he had shied away the moment _she_ had made the move. Well, it wasn’t as if she had asked him for a date, was it? It had sounded more like a night out between friends rather than something more… romantic. He glanced behind. She was still visible, a splash of orange in the bright blue background. A few minutes and she would be in her car. Lips pressed together, he looked at her going away. 

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the couple walking past him, but their laughs pulled him back to reality. Two men in their forties — tourists, guessing by their clothes and cameras —were admiring the view, hand in hand, big smiles splitting their faces in two. Hardy sighed. How could people be that happy together? Daisy had been nagging him for ages, telling him he should 'go back on the market’, arguing that it would make him happier. Maybe she was right. Maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to take a hold on his life. 

A wave of determination swept over him and, before realising it, he had turned around with a small curt nod and was striding back to where they had been sitting, searching for Miller in the crowd that had suddenly appeared in the parking. Bloody tourists. 

“Milla!“ he shouted, desperately hopping that it wasn’t too late. His exuberance earned him a few looks, but he neither stopped nor cared. His fists were tight on his sides and he could feel his muscles trembling in anticipation. He was still searching for her in the ballet of cars, searching for a small drop of bright orange in the multicoloured ocean of people. How could they have arrived that quickly without him noticing them? “Milla!“ he repeated, louder. 

“Oi!,“ a voice interjected, startling him. He spun around. Here she was, in her horrible coat, a frown on her face and her head tilted slightly on the side. “What’s happening?“ 

Now face to face with her, his previous courage abandoned him. He could read worry in her eyes. Not that he could blame her. It wasn’t often that he’d pull a move like that, especially in public. Especially since they didn’t have in case. The world slowed down around them, leaving them in some sort of silent heaven.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes jumping from Miller’s face to the cars, to a group of children playing in the distance, to the couple still looking at the cliffs and back to Miller again. He missed the tight feeling of a tie around his neck. Most people would have found it unnerving in this circumstances, but he had always found a suit to be like an armour. A way of protecting himself from the outside world. Bloody Miller, for making him more ‘sociable’ and less ‘madly-strict-and-annoyingly-obsessed-with-jackets-and-ties’. He cleared his throat. 

Miller was still waiting. There was the strong line between her eyes that always appeared when she was upset. She smelled like chocolate, baby food and alga. He never thought he’d love this combination but here he was, breathing deeply and trying to memorise every nuance of it. His  eyes met hers and he felt his heart pounding and the hair of his arms raising as a shiver passed through him. He pulled his shoulders back, his chest out, his head hight. “Milla,“ he said for the third time, in a calm and soft voice, “would you want to go out with me?“

She froze, her body stiffening in a second. Her eyes widened and, after a moment of pure stillness, her lips broke into a laughing smirk. 

Hardy hold his breath. He leant in unconsciously, avid to know the answer. His breaths deepened, his tongue licked his dry lips. He could feel everything around him, the cooling breeze that stroke his cheeks and played in Miller’s hair, the blue-green colour of the see behind her, the white spume on the burning sand, the red swim-track and yellow balls of teenagers, the honks of angry cars, the smell of chips and sugar floating in the air and the soft burn of the sun on his skin. He had never felt more tuned in with the world. 

“Are you seriously asking me to go out?“ Miller said, her voice full of surprise and her head shacking in disbelief. “Are you sick? You must be sick. Well, I’m definitely taking advantage of it. When are you free? Thinking I just asked you minutes ago… Oh, and we should invite other DSs! That would do you good, show yourself in a more favourable place than the station. Could only improve your popularity. Not that it could go lower any way.“

Hardy’s world came crashing around. He pinched his lips together and backed away. It couldn’t have been worst. Miller kept rambling excitedly about who should come, oblivious to his discomfort. He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw, feigning interested. How did he got there? Stupid idea to take a hold of your life. It never worked. Except that he was here now, it was the moment he had let go earlier. He couldn’t let it go again. 

“Miller,“ he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face, “shut up for a sec.“ She looked offended but obeyed, more out of surprise than anything else. He took his chance before she had enough time to throw back insults and tell him how much of a bloody douchbag he was. “I didn't mean go out as… like this,“ he started. “I meant… Miller…“ His throat closed and he had to cough to get the last words out. Was it possible for his pacemaker to stop working right now? “I meant, would you go on a date with me?“

If Miller’s eyes were wide before, they were now ready to pop out of their sockets. Her smile faded but her lips stayed slightly parted, as if she wanted to let out words she couldn’t find — or scream. She was staring openly at Hardy, and he could see the raging storm going on inside her head.

Hardy wiped his sweaty palms on his jacket. A seagull cried in the distance. His hands were trembling and, if he had hoped for his pacemaker to stop, his heart was now pounding like never before. Stupid idea. He was about to tell Miller it didn’t matter, to forget it and go back to their previous friendship. Not that it would be easy or that he would ever forget his current embarrassment but it would be a way to stop this painful feeling he had. 

“Yes,“ she said suddenly, her eyes still wide but her face more composed than before. A wide grin appeared on her lips once the word was out, and her sparkling eyes were searching Hardy’s. She was bouncing lightly on her feet, from excitement or nervousness, he couldn’t tell. “Let’s say… 8pm tomorrow night. No one can keep the kids tonight. Don’t be late.“

Hardy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The corner of his lips turned upward in a small smile. His whole body relaxed and he nodded at her proposition. 

Miller was beaming. She was shining, totally in her element on the beach. Unable to resist, now that the deed was done, Hardy leant in and, letting her plenty of time to back away, kissed her lightly on the cheek. Still bewildered by his proposition and murmuring unintelligible words — though Hardy could make out ‘sodding idiot’ and ‘unbelievable’ — she turned around and made her way to her car. 

The bubble they had been in broke, and the surrounding tumult came crashing around him. Toddlers were crying, children were playing football, groups of teenagers were huddled around a phone, parents were worrying and carrying giant umbrellas and food-coolers. He didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, Alec Hardy was genuinely smiling.


	2. The beginning

 The tick-tock of the clock was infuriating, Ellie thought, checking her hair for the hundredth time in the entrance’s mirror, occasionally snapping glances out of the window. _The Bachelor_ was playing in the living-room, the voices made barely audible by her father's snoring—why did he watch this sort of show, that was above her. Swearing under her breath when she stepped on one of the numerous toys scattered on the blue carpet, the striking pain distracting her for a few seconds, she made her way to the kitchen where the left-overs of the pizza eaten earlier by the three other inhabitants were waiting in open air, leaving a smell of rotten tomatoes and hot cheese around. 

Five minutes later, the pizza was in the fridge, the crumbs had been cleaned off the table, the worktop was shining and Ellie was back in the entrance. It was late evening outside, and the sky was slowly morphing from cyan to sunset orange. Clasped in her hand, her phone was displaying Hardy’s text. 

_Leaving now. I’ll been there in fifteen._

The device had chimed ten minutes earlier, which left her five minutes to continue pondering over what she was doing. Going out with her boss wasn’t something Ellie had ever imagined doing and she still didn’t know what was her opinion on it. Her fingers started to play with a book left on the dresser—some Agatha Christie she hadn’t have time to read. 

On the one hand, she had learned not to give any importance to what other people were saying—she had to after Joe’s arrest. She had worked hard to get where she was now, hours and hours spend at the station, studying, learning how to be a good detective. She had her position because she had wanted it, not because she had favours from her superiors.

On the other hand, she knew what people would say if she was to have an open relationship with DI Hardy. They’d be the source of gossips for months, and she didn't want Tom and Fred to go through that. Not again. 

After the trial, they had entirely rearranged the house—an attempt to erase the memories of those two years—but the decor that she usually found comforting—warm colours on the walls, a full bookshelf, the stairs and artificial plants creating a narrow but securing place—was of no help this night. She looked in the mirror again, trying to erase some imaginary flaws with trembling hands. It had been quite a while since her last date. Lucy had insisted on her signing up on Tinder and Co. but, except for a miserable evening she’d be more than happy to forget, it had lead to nothing. Behind her, the clock was pointing at _7:59_ , the ticking playing with her already burning nerves. 

Behind the window, the street was empty. An anxious feeling grew in Ellie’s stomach. Would Hardy come? Had he played her? He didn’t seem the type but, after their last case, she had no trust in men. 

She was replaying the events of the week when the bell rung, stirring her back into the present. 

“Tom! Don’t forget, you have ‘till ten, no a minute later,“ she shouted toward the upper level, grabbing a small leather bag before turning toward the inside of the house. “See you later, Dad.“ A muffled grumble answered. With a deep breath to give herself courage, Ellie chased any doubt from her mind and, with a last glance into the mirror, she opened the door and stepped outside. 

Hardy was standing on the patio, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, the cab that had brought him here disappearing at the corner of the street. He was wearing a black tieless suit with his hair more combed and his beard less fuzzy than per usual. It was a strange sight, him standing straight among the hanging baskets of flowers, the burned grass and the family car. Shadows and sun were dancing on his skin and on the stonework as sunlight filtered through the leaves of the ancient oak, making him look both mysterious and surreal. The grating of the porch swing and the insects’ buzzing were the only sounds over the distant growl of the traffic. 

Shaking herself, Ellie got down the small tread of stairs. She almost tripped but caught herself at the last moment and landed clumsily on the ground.

“I’m fine,“ she told Hardy as he made a move to help her. She made sure her clothes and bags were still in place to give herself countenance. “No tie?“ she joked, an attempt to lighten the tension. 

He was standing still, his wide eyes looking her up and down and his lips slightly parted in shock. Strangely, it didn't upset her as it would have with any other man. Still, she could feel herself blushing. The dark blue top she was wearing had been bought during a night out with Beth and was matching perfectly with her black slim jean and leather boots. Her hair were dropped—she couldn’t remember ever having her hair unfastened before Hardy—and falling in waves on her shoulders, the wind ruffling them and pushing locks in her eyes. 

Realising his behaviour, Hardy shifted on his feet awkwardly. “Er, no,“ he said, rubbing a hand where the long tissue should be. “Oh, that’s for ya.“ He handed her the bouquet of red roses he had been holding. Ellie took them with a little smile. If it was long for her, it must be ages for him. From what she knew, this date during Trish’s case was his first attempt since the divorce.

“Thanks,“ she said, putting the flowers in an empty vase on the front window. It would be good here, better than inside. And there was already rainwater in it. 

“Should we go, then?“ Hardy asked. Ellie spun around. She fumbled in her bag and, within seconds, Hardy was sat on the passenger seat and she was taking deep breaths, eyes closed, before the door. The both of them obviously didn’t know how to act but it would get better along the night, wouldn’t it? With a last profound inspiration, she got in. 

*** 

At first, the trip consisted in Ellie rambling and Hardy giving instructions when necessary—he had refused to tell her where they were going which was ridiculous since she knew the town more than he did and would find far before they arrived—but soon, curiosity had eaten all self-consciousness out of her and she was dying to know their destination. They had been driving in meadows and, occasionally, forests for the last twenty minutes.

“You know,“ she said after Hardy had refused to give the secret up for the third time, “if you were a serial killer, that’s exactly where you’d lead me. In a deserted place where no one would find my body for at least a whole week.“ She couldn’t see him, her focus being all on the road, but she knew he was rolling his eyes or smirking knowledgeably. 

“Calm down, Milla,“ he replied. “You’ve too much imagination.“

“No need for imagination with the job we have,“ she muttered. “How much longer?“ They were arriving in a more inhabited area with a few lonely houses scattered in wheat fields. 

“Er… Three minutes. On the right at the next turn an’ straight ahead.“

The small road led them into the undergrowth where tall trees were forming an impenetrable wall and dying leaves were covering the earth. Ellie shivered. Instead of having more clues, she was getting confused as to what Hardy’s plan was. An undergrowth? What were they supposed to do here? Gather mushrooms? 

All at once, to her surprise, the trees stopped in a straight line and the car emerged in a small clearing . A cottage was standing alone in the twilight. 

Its thatched sloping roof was falling on grey stone walls where climbing roses were framing square windows. From them, a dim yellow light was escaping, softly illuminating the shining baskets of red, yellow and purple flowers. A path almost hidden by bushes was running from the backyard to the double dour. Above it, a silvery panel was reading _‘The forest’s ocean’_.

Ellie’s mouth fell open, her eyes widened and, for a second, she forgot the wheel in her hands, letting the car drift to the right. The road was circling the house, leading to a car park were a small dozen of vehicles were waiting. She got out silently, her feet deepening slightly into the wet earth, silently thanking herself for not wearing hight heels. Hardy’s eyes were on her,  she could feel it, probably analysing her reaction.

“Do you like it?“ he asked with a tight voice. 

From where they stood, they could see the back of the house, covered with hight green plants and, before it, an explosion of blue, white, red, orange and pink among bushed of leaves as big as a palm. The murmur of an invisible stream was filling the air and, from time to time, a bird would break the silence with a song or the wind would run over the grass in a melodic whisper. 

Ellie tore her eyes away to look at Hardy. He was now gazing at the garden, his hands shoved in his pockets, gently beating his lower lips, his hair tousled by the wind. 

“It’s beautiful,“ she breathed out, the lump in her throat almost blocking her voice. She blushed and looked away when he turned to her, and stared at the garden. Her appreciation of it was darkened by the attempts of figuring out how much a diner here would cost. They were both single parents and a detective, whether DS or DI, wasn’t earning that much. 

A light touch on her wrist startled her. Hardy was at her side—how had she not heard him come close?— and was sliding his hand into hers slowly, as if asking for her consent. A small satisfied smile was brightening his face. She let him do. 

“We should get in,“ she said, squeezing his hand. 

“Aye,“ Hardy replied. 

They walked in silence, side by side, admiring the colourful blossom. The sweet flowery smell was calming and, here and there, they would pass under a wooden arch or see a wet gleaming spiderweb spread between two satiny petals. A drop of cold water fell on Ellie’s bare shoulder, making her shiver. 

Hardy stopped under the patio and turned toward her. Unsure as to why he wasn’t opening the doors, she looked up. They stayed frozen like this, Hardy searching for something in her eyes and her searching for something to say. 

“You ready?“ she asked softly. If they turned around now, they could still forget it all. They could go back to being just Hardy and Miller, two detectives and friends with broken families and enough trauma for a life time. If they stepped inside, it would officially be more than a simple friendship and, if things turned bad, there would be consequences. 

“Are you?“ Hardy said. 

Ellie looked at the old oak-wood door that separated them from the restaurant. A simple step and they would be in the unknown. Hardy’s hand was warm and strong in her’s. Reassuring, like he had been all those times she had needed support. 

“Yes.“

 ***

The difference between the outside and the inside of the restaurant was startling. As much as the cottage could have been taken out of a Disney cartoon, the main room could have been one of a five stars modern restaurant. 

Beige translucent curtains were half-drawn between the occupied tables to give intimacy, their colour contrasting strongly with the metallic grey of the walls. Hight plants were growing out of huge black pots, some of them brushing the two and a half meters hight ceiling from which hung crystal chandeliers. The quiet discussion of the consumers—around three quarters of the room was full—wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, it added to the charm. 

“Do you have a reservation?“ asked the waiter standing behind her black counter. She was wearing a three-pieces suit and her red hair were fastened into a loose bun. 

“Yes,“ Hardy answered before giving his name. Besides him, Ellie was taking pictures with her phone. She hadn’t told Beth about tonight’s date, but she would certainly talk about it with her friend the next day.

“You don’t do anythings in half, do you?“ she told Hardy as the waiter lead them to a table under one of the windows.

“I like to impress,“ Hardy said playfully as he pushed a chair for her. She sat and let her bag fall at her feet. “Especially someone I’ve known for three years already. Hard to surprise after so long,“ he added, sitting before her. 

Ellie felt her cheeks heat up again and looked away. Night had fallen, leaving nature under the silvery light of the moon. She shivered and looked at Hardy again.

“I’m more used to the sea,“ she explained when she saw his worried face. “And to less classy places,“ she added mentally. “So,“ she said with a smile, decided to have fun, “how am I supposed to call you? No matter what you’re saying, I am _not_ using Sir or Hardy tonight. What about… Al? Do you like Al?“

Hardy looked disgusted by the proposition. “I’d rather have ya call me Alec,“ he said.

“Alright then, Alec,“ Ellie nodded. “So, how come you know this place and I don’t? I mean, you don’t go out a lot, or even at all, outside of work and Daisy.“ He looked away, obviously embarrassed by the question, but Ellie wasn’t giving up so easily. “Come on! The famous asocial detective who lives for his work and his daughter knowing about a restaurant lost in the middle of no-where? There’s _got_ to be a story behind that,“ she insisted, shaking her head in disbelief. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit sad by this. One of the few advantages she had always had over him in their job was her knowledge of the region and seeing that go away was slightly disconcerting. Alec sighted and looked back at her. 

“I thought…“ he started cautiously, stopping briefly as another waiter came to give them two menus. “This restaurant is the only one near Broadchurch that was opened less than one year ago,“ he simply said once they were alone again. 

Ellie frown, not understanding what he meant by this when realisation hit her. It was the only restaurant she couldn’t have gone to with Joe and where he couldn’t have taken either Tess or Claire—despite what he was saying, Ellie was still wondering whether there had been something more between Alec and his suspect.

“Thanks,“ she whispered, touched by his effort. Feeling her eyes watering when remembering the impact of those people on their lives, she grabbed one of the menus and hid behind it, feigning interest. She didn’t have to fake for long though, for the meals, written in black italic letters on golden paper, were as varied as one could hope. 

There was crabs and shrimps and ten different sort of fishes cooked in different ways from salad to grilled, with choices of condiments with beans, peas, french fries, mashed potatoes or raw vegetables. 

“Bloody cooks,“ she heard Alec say grumpily. Looking up, she saw him frowning down at his menu. 

“What’s happening, Mister Grumpy?“ she asked with a small smile. She was more comfortable with him being his usual irritable self. “There's not enough salad choices for you?“ She looked at the list of dishes consisting mainly of lettuce.

“They’ve sea-food everywhere,“ he sighed heavily. “I should’ve guessed, in a sea-food restaurant.“

“You could ask to have the sea-food removed,“ Ellie said helpfully. Alec stared. 

“That’s not a salad anymore. That’s lettuce.“

“Well, you hardly eat anything else,“ Ellie shrugged. “Come, tell me.“ She leant over the table. “Have you ever eaten fries?“

He rolled his eyes. “Course I’ve eaten fries, Miller,“ he said. “At least ten years ago,“ he added under his breath. 

Ellie would have picked it up if her attention hadn't been grabbed by his previous statement. “Uh-uh,“ she tutted, shaking her head. “There's no calling me ‘Miller’ tonight. It’s Ellie, no choice.“ 

“Fine, _Ellie_ ,“ Alec nodded. “Besides, how do allergic people do? They should at _least_ have one alternate dish that doesn't contain a bloody fish or-or boneless jelly!“

It was Ellie’s turned to roll her eyes, though her shoulders were shaking with a repressed chuckle. She pushed the lock of hair that had fallen before her face. “I guess allergic people avoid going to sea-food restaurants.“

The waiter chose this moment to arrive, asking for their order. Ellie had chosen the _Sole and its forest of french fries_ with a glass of red wine—just one, she was driving—while Alec asked for the Calmar salad. 

“Without calmar, if possible,“ he added, making the poor server confused and forcing Ellie to repress another laugh that came out as a snort despite her best efforts. The menus were taken away and Ellie smiled smugly at her partner. 

“Ya do have some good ideas sometimes,“ Alec admitted. 

“Sometimes?“ Ellie said, arching an eyebrow. “What about that time you ripped Daisy’s train ticket apart? Or when I suggested to put this little boy’s father under surveillance during the River’s case? Or-“ 

“’Kay, most of the time,“ he complied. 

Ellie’s glass of wine and a carafe of water were brought. The candle’s light was dancing on the burgundy liquid, its flame waving and fluttering, casting a warmness around it. The glass was cold under Ellie’s fingers and the wine, despite being sweet and fruity, left a bitter taste on her tongue. Alec looked peaceful, the corner of his lips turned slightly upward and his brow clear of its worry lines. 

“Why did you say no when I asked you?“ she asked, putting the glass back on the table. He obviously knew what she was talking about but didn’t answer immediately, glancing around and unconsciously playing with the satin napkin that had been elegantly placed in the plate. 

“It’s… complicated,“ he said, a poor attempt to avoid the subject. Ellie was having none of that. 

“Fine,“ she said. “Why did you asked then?“ Being a detective and working under DI Hardy’s order did have its advantages, especially giving one the habit of never giving up without an answer. Alec seemed to recognise his influence because he looked up with exasperation before looking straight at the candle between them. 

“I, er…“ he mumbled before stopping and passing a hand over his face. 

“I’m all ears,“ Ellie encouraged him. If they were to start a relation, she wasn’t going to start it with secrets like this one. 

Alec sighed again. “I guess I was afraid?“ he said tentatively. “When ya asked, I was still wondering whether or not _I_ shall ask ya. I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. Wasn’t sure _ya_ were ready to be in a relationship with anyone. So, when ya asked, I- I backed away. But then I realised, that’s bollocks. Ya can’t run away all yer life. Well, that’s something Daisy told me. And I asked ya.“

Ellie nodded. She had been ready for quite a while. She used to think all the long stares he gave her where to make sure she wasn’t making any mistake—she thought he was _still_ doubting her abilities, even after all this time—but perhaps, she was wrong. Maybe they were another kind of stares. 

“I’m comin’ back,“ Alec said all of a sudden, getting up and pointing at the toilets, startling Ellie. She looked at him slaloming between tables and waiters with a mixture of guilt and gratitude. He wasn’t the most emotionally confident man and opening up like this must have been difficult. Yet, the both of them knew they couldn’t have a relationship based on keeping secrets, not after Joe and Tess, not after having seen each other at the very bottom of the pit.

Letting her thoughts wander freely, Ellie found herself trying to imagine what Alec and Tess’ first date had been like. Was he more social back then? Had they gone to a fancy restaurant like this one or had they gone to a fair or a theatre? Was Alec her boss already? Shaking her head, she forced herself to stop. There was no good doing this. But her mind seemed to be on a road without exit and the memory of _her_ first date with Joe came forcefully. 

They had gone to the beach on a sunny afternoon. It had been her idea. She loved the sea and Joe had told her about his passion for boats. There had been laughs and ice-creams and sweet moments sat together on the peer, their feet brushing the cold sea water. It still hurt to think about it, but the pain in her chest didn’t block her respiration like it did at the beginning. Joe was her past, she was done with him. Her present and future were Fred, Tome and, maybe, Alec. 

The footsteps of the waiter and the clinking of forks and plates brought her back to reality. The dishes were beautiful. In her plate, the fish, covered by a white sauce and coriander, was laying in the middle of a ring of fries, lettuce and small cubes of tomatoes and cucumbers. A thin line of vinaigrette was circling it. The smell was more than promising. Alec’s was mainly green with occasional splashes of colour like sauce brown, soja white, cheese yellow and tomato red. When he came back, Ellie had captured pictures of both and was taking small sips of wine pensively. 

 ***

Of the rest of the diner, Ellie would keep a memory of laughs and discoveries. The food was excellent—the fish melting in her mouth, the fries salty and tasty needed, the tomatoes fresh and juicy—but the company was better. 

“ _She loved me for the dangers I had passed, and I loved her that she did pity them,_ “ Alec recited after telling her he had had a ‘Shakespearean phase’ in college. 

“Let me guess, Othello?“ Ellie said, chewing a fry distractedly. 

Alec nodded, swallowing a mouthful of salad. “Aye. I would’ve been an actor in a different life. My parents always insisted on me doing theatre.“

“You _do_ have parents!“ Ellie exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. “You didn’t just appeared out of thin air!“ An eye-roll followed. 

She’d remember her face as well. A glimpse at a reflecting surface—had it been a glass, a plate or a mirror?—had shown her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. She was holding out a hand to ask Alec to stop talking as the pain in her ribs from too much laughing made it difficult to breath. She was gasping for air. 

And then, there was his expression. His nose wrinkled in disgust after she had talked him into trying the fish, or his wide smile and belly laugh when she told him a joke involving a monkey and a banana. 

The waiter came back eventually, to clean the table and ask for desert. In her happy-drunk state, Ellie couldn’t help but blush and nip her lips. Alec stared at her expectantly. 

“I’ll take a chocolate cake, please,“ she managed to say, although she avoided looking at anyone. The ‘Hot and Cold Cocoa Mix’ was delicious and free of anything related to the sea, and she insisted on Alec tasting it as well. They finished by sharing the spoon over the almost entirely melt candle. 

Easy smiles were resting on their faces. They were breathing slowly, the lack of tension making their limbs looses and the good food and late night working together to make them light-headed. Alec smoothed the front of his shirt and leant back in his chair. Ellie put her chin in her hands and closed her eyes, savouring the moment. 

When she opened them again, a wet hot towel was waiting on a small wooden tray and Alec was reading the bill. 

“Oi!“ she said, snatching the paper out of his hands. Her heart missed a beat when she saw the addition. “We’re cutting in half?“ she proposed.

“I’ll pay, Milla,“ Alec said, trying to get the bill back, unsuccessfully. “Ya’ll pay the next one.“

“Yeah? Well, one, stop this sexist bullshit, two, Ellie, not Miller and three, more like the three next on-“ She stopped abruptly and tore her eyes from the numbers to him. “So there’ll be a next one?“

Alec fidgeted in his seat. “Unless, ya don't want to,“ he said slowly. “But I’d like it.“

“I’d like it too.“

 ***

In the end, Alec paid, saying that he didn’t want to take advantage of her while she was drunk—she was apparently too drunk to pay but sober enough to drive, which showed how weak his argument was. Ellie only accepted because he promise to let her pay without argument on their next date.

Outside, the moon was hight and the chill air bit their skin. They headed hurriedly toward the car. The garden had a mystical appearance in the dark, but Ellie didn’t stop, pushed by her desire to escape the cold.

They were smiling on the way back, either exchanging anecdotes or Ellie listening to Alec humming some songs she didn’t know. 

“It’s not how you look on the outside that matters, it’s the inside. Like- Like…“ Alec was saying. 

“Like a fridge?“ Ellie supplied as she stopped the car before his house. Alec looked horrified by the comparison, making her laugh delightfully. “It’s nice to see you like this,“ she said softly, looking at the bush of petunias that was growing next to his door. “Without you’re usual…attitude.“

“I don’t have an attitude problem,“ Alec retorted with a frown, “ _you_ have a perception problem.“

Only lit by the car’s lamp, he looked younger. From where she was, Ellie could notice all the small details like the laugh lines he had at the corner of his eyes when he smiled, or the small scar under his left ear, or the different colour of his beard, some hair already white, other still dark-brown, almost white. 

“I guess I should go now,“ Alec said eventually, but didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he leaned in and drew lazily with his index on Ellie’s hand that was still gripping the wheel. 

“I guess you should,“ she agreed, trying to hide the shiver that ran through her. Her eyes were following the complicated lines he was sketching on her skin. She didn’t want him to go, truly. This night had been surprising and better than what she could have imagined. She didn’t want it to end and, obviously, neither did he. 

She looked at him. He was smelling like tea, old paper, and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He rose his eyes to met hers, his fingers still moving and stroking. They were close enough for her to notice the different browns of his eyes, from clear orange to deep wood through light mud and wheat beige. His pupils were dilated, a hole of blackness. She licked her lips. Her heart was pounding when his brow draw closer and his hand rose to cup her cheek. His hand was rough and warm. She tilted her head. 

“Or…“ she spoke lowly.

“Or I could stay a second longer,“ he supplied. 

Ellie nodded, there noses touching as she did so. Her eyes flickered to his lips and back up again. The smell was everywhere now. He closed the distance slowly, brushing her lips softly with his, sending electric shocks through her body. She pushed lightly, making the contact stronger. Her hands were on his knees now, and she could feel his on her face and waist. They broke apart but didn’t move, staying frozen in close proximity. 

They were breathing unevenly. Their eyes met again. That was all Ellie needed to close the distance again and start a much deeper, much longer and much messier kiss. She couldn’t think about anything else than his firm lips on hers. Her hands went up to grip his collar, as if to bring him closer. She knew, in some deep parts of her mind, that he was applying much more pressure on her waist. 

When they broke apart, both panting, Alec took her closer in his arm, and snuggled his face in her shoulder, letting his lips trail down her neck. A moan escaped her lips. Her heartbeat was slowing down, finally, and she let her head fall on his.

“I should go,“ Ellie said a couple of minutes later. 

“Yes,“ Alec agreed. 

She pushed him gently but firmly and, with a light kiss on his lips, took her limbs back and grabbed the wheel before her hands could find something more interesting to do. Alec passed a hand through his hair with a small smile. He readjusted his jacket and, kissing Ellie lightly on the cheek, got out of the car. 

“See you tomorrow, Milla,“ he said before closing the door, making her grin and shake her head slowly. Even after kissing her, he still couldn’t give up. 

“See you tomorrow, sir,“ she replied. Turning on the car, she gazed at him walking with bouncing steps to his house and disappearing inside after throwing a long meaningful look behind.

She had found out the smell she couldn’t make out earlier. Tea, old paper and orange. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably have read it on more time but I simply couldn't wait. If you spot grammar errors, don't be afraid to tell me.


	3. Waking up

When Alec woke up to the sound of his alarm, he buried his head in the pillows and smashed the clock with a slam of the hand. Rain was pouring outside and its thumping was echoing through the house. He sighed deeply and drew the blanket higher, successfully forming a comfortable shell around himself.

His memories of the previous night felt surreal. Eyes closed, he could still feel Ellie’s lips on his, soft and warm, or see her laughing heartily at something he said.

The sheets slid when he moved and the cold air bit his skin. With effort, he opened his eyes again. Curtains that had been drawn carelessly were letting rays of light in. Sadly, it was enough to see the mess. The carpet had disappeared under the worn clothes and books and files had been thrown carelessly around, some referring to cases that had been closed for weeks. The smell of perspiration was suffocating.

Knowing he couldn’t wait any longer without getting late—late for him since he was always the first to arrive at the station—Alec threw the blanket away and sat up. Before the temptation of going back into the cosiness of his bed could stop him, he was up and at the door, silently heading to the bathroom.

The pipes shook when he turned the water on. He kept the head carefully away and waited for the water to get hot. He hadn’t had a panic attack for months—they had considerably lessen once the Sandbrook case had been dealt with—but cold water still made him edgy. 

Finishing quickly, he grabbed a towel and dried his red skin—the water might have been slightly too hot but he liked it this way. The room was now filled with the smell of flower soap. Daisy had been the one to choose it when they had gone to the shop together, saying that if she couldn’t have a bathtube, she’d at least attempt to make the shower as comfortable as possible. Alec’s thoughts, animated by the idea of bathes, wandered in deeper places and pictures of himself and Ellie in a spa flashed in his mind before he shook his head and went back to the present time. Now was not the time. 

His feet squished on the cold tiles—he had promised to buy a floor rug and he would, he just hadn’t had the occasion just yet. He wrapped the towel around his waist. Water was still dripping in the shower, the leaking barely audible over the rain. 

The man who stared at him from the mirror looked different. He had small dimples, as if he had spent a lot of time smiling recently, and the dark rings under his eyes were finally starting to disappear. His fingers danced over the long scar on his torso. The shape of a pacemaker was clearly visible under the skin. 

The countertop was crowded with hairbrushes, some medicine, razors and empty deodorants. He ought to do some cleaning, Alec thought as mint toothpaste filled his mouth, if he wanted to invite Ellie here. Sure, she had already come multiple times—hell, she was spending half of the week’s evenings in his living room when they were working on a case—but it was before a new context had arisen. He’d do it later.  

***

One white shirt and a black suit later, he was leaning on the kitchen counter with a cup of strong tea from which vapour was winding toward the ceiling. It was quite a simple room, with an almost empty fridge, a grey microwave, a fruit bowl with some apples and oranges, a worn out kettle next to packages of tea bags and a sink where a pile of dirty dishes was waiting.

When on a case, Alec Hardy would usually jump over breakfast and go to the station as soon as he was up—if he had slept at all— preferring to take a cuppa while working. Since the last days hadn’t brought anything—the paperwork for Trish’s case was the only task they had to do and, even though he felt guilty for it, he could not stop hoping for _something_ to happen, anything really. He was a cop, not a pen-scraper. 

Anyway, since the last few days had been empty, he had fallen in a routine where he would take some tea at home—which made him think about a murderer he had stopped some years earlier, a psychopath who had been working at a tea house and chose his victims there, thus making him think about police work, the mix of police and tea reminding him of that time he had put a cup of tea in a microwave before Miller and her goddamn outrage and—

He could go on and on, thinking about a thousand more or less pleasant things per minute, until his cup was empty—even with a second one, he’d be first at the station—or Daisy would walk in and say that drinking tea was good but eating was nice as well— _he_ was supposed to be the adult here. 

This precise morning, however, he was thinking about what would happen at the police station. Did Mi- Did Ellie wanted their relationship, whatever it was, to be public? He doubted it. Would they managed to pull it off? To hide a secret among a dozen of detectives and police officers? He hoped so. True, they were the best—that wasn’t arrogant, that was true. Putting oneself down when one knows they’re good or even the best at something when there’s proof of that, isn’t modesty. It’s putting oneself down. They were the best—and only, in his case—DI and DS of the station, but it didn’t mean the others were stupid. He had  read Jenkinson’s file before coming to Broadchurch and had found out that she had a pretty good nose, and DC Harford, despite her foolishness and inexperience, could be quite observant. 

Daisy chose this moment to arrive. Her shoulders were slumped and, with her long hair forming a sort of nest on her head and her eyes half-closed, she looked properly exhausted. 

“Hi, sweetheart,“ Alec said, looking over his cup. “Time to go to bed?“

“Very funny, dad,“ Daisy replied with a sleepy voice. She rubbed her eyes and collapsed on a chair. “It’s too early for jokes.“

“Life belongs to those who wake up early,“ he said, putting some toasts and a pot of strawberry jam before her. “Ye didn’t sleep well?“

She rose her head with apparent difficulty and started to make herself an appropriate breakfast. “Had to finish an essay,“ she said. “Stupid teacher thought asking us to write in french was a good idea. Asshole.“

“Language,“ Alec exclaimed before taking a sip. He did feel compassion for his daughter—he hated writing essays when he was her age, and still did—but he had been trying hard to stop swearing around her so that she wouldn’t take the same habit. 

She looked at him with big, offended eyes. “Seriou-,“ she began but cut herself when she saw her father’s face for the first time. She squinted and tilted her head like a cat would do before a mouse, choosing carefully how to hunt it. “You look happy.“

Alec swayed on his feet and took another gulp of tea, savouring its bitter taste. Obviously, she would notice. They did live together now and Daisy was excellent at picking up oddities. She had gotten that from her parents. He coughed.

“Is that a shock?“ he said, trying to save the appearance. “I have the right to be happy, ya know.“ The words didn’t sound convincing. 

Daisy’s nose wrinkled. “You almost never look happy,“ she stated. “You only smile when we do something together or when you’ve finished a case. That’s it. I’ve never seen you smile otherwise.“ She bit her toast. “Guess yesterday’s night was good, then.“

He coughed again. “Er… Yes, it was.“

She nodded. “What’s her name?“ Alec fidgeted, making Daisy smile. “You don’t wanna tell me?“

“It’s… complicated,“ he answered. How would Daisy react if—when—she’d learn that her father was dating his DS—again. She and Miller seemed to have a good chemistry, if the few times they had talked to each other were anything to go by. But most of the time, when Ellie came in the evening to work on a case, Daisy would be out with friends or working in her room. 

“Complicated?“ the teenager repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Does it mean I know her? Are you going to see her again? Wait, was it the one from last time? The one from—“

“Nah,“ Alec stopped her. “Wasn’t.“ Daisy looked disappointed for a second but brightened up quickly. 

“So it _is_ someone I know,“ she said. “And someone who lives here, or near. _And_ someone you haven’t met on the internet cause I’d know about that. So someone who lives here and who we both know. There isn’t that many people.“

Alec felt mildly insulted at this comment but chose to let it past. She wasn’t completely wrong. He finished his cup, put it in the sink and dropped a kiss on Daisy’s forehead. 

“Who is it?“ she asked again when she saw him leaving. “You’ll have to tell me at one point.“

He put his coat on, adjusting it so it would protect him from the rain. “Ye, I will,“ he complied, “but when I’ll want to, sweetheart. Besides, I bet ye’ll find out yerself.“ He winked at her when she stuck out her tongue to him, stepped outside and closed the door. He needed to talk to _Ellie_ as soon as possible. 

***

The rain stopped when he was half-way to the station, but the street was covered with puddles that reflected the grey sky far above. 

He missed the busy life of a big city, the concert of honks, the constant roar of traffic and the tall buildings. The lines of houses here unnerved him, made him feel out of place. Or it used to. Nowadays, the sight of children running into the streets, hurried parents following them and the barking of dogs felt normal. Even the background discussions, shoutings and music of the waves didn’t get on his nerves as much as before. 

One thing he could do without, though, was the constant smell of salty sea that was stuck everywhere, even in the station’s staircase.

The common room was still empty when he arrived at 7:45. That was how he preferred it, silent, optimal for reflexion. Files were laying on the over-used desks and chairs had been left in the middle of the corridors, blocking Alec’s way to the kitchen. 

Annoyed by his coworkers’ lack of consideration, he quickly made a cup of tea—his day, already darkened by the state of the station, degraded even more when he saw the absence of his usual flavour—and went hiding in his own office. Even though the walls were of glass, it gave a sense of privacy he cherished. 

His desk was neat—it happened so rarely Ellie had insisted on taking a picture for posterity— the only decoration being a photo of Daisy during the last summer vacation they had spend together. She was smiling hugely with a lock of blond hair flying before her face and a fair in the background. It had been a sunny day and the three of them—Daisy, Tess and himself—had chosen to make the most of it. It was one of the last happy memory he had of his previous life. 

Alec sat in his chair and busied himself with some paperwork. 

Soon, a dozen officers had arrived. He could see them turning their computers on, talking, laughing lightly and making calls, but no sign of Ellie Miller. His foot was bouncing on the floor as he watched DC Harford unwrap a cake under the grateful eyes of her colleagues. Behind the windows, it was raining again. 

What was Miller doing? Had something happened? She would have texted him, wouldn’t she? He got up and walked into the common room. The voices lowered like they usually did when he entered the room and some threw him worried glances as if he was about to shout at them. 

“Denyll, has Miller called sick?“ he asked one of the DSs over the sound of clicks, footsteps and ringing phones. The tall white man always knew who was absent, why, how and all other gossips running around. 

He looked surprised at the DI’s inquiry but answered anyway. “No, sir,“ he said. “She should arrive anytime now.“

Alec nodded. “Right. When she does, tell her I want to talk to her in my office.“ Not waiting for DS Denyll’s to agree, he turned around and stormed back into his office.

He eyed his phone and pulled at his hair unconsciously. Should he called her? She hadn’t, so she probably didn’t need him to. It was fine. Still, it was 8:30 now, and Miller always arrived at 8:10 sharp, or told someone she’d be late. Ten more minutes and he’d called. 

Unknown to him, curious glances were shared between the police officers who had assisted to this little display. 

***

When, five minutes later, Hardy rose his head from the papers he had been reading, it was to see Miller sat at her desk, hair fastened in a loose bun, fingers flying on the keyboard. Grumbling about how you couldn’t rely on anyone, he got up and went out again. He could tell the smile on her lips as she talked with a DC—he had forgotten their name—was fake. She closed her eyes when the woman went away before turning back to her computer and purposely avoiding to look at his office. 

“Milla!“ he called her as the odour of morning coffee slithered into his office. “In my office, now.“ He stared at Denyll for a long second, making the poor soul shiver in fear, before turning around. 

“No need to be so rude,“ Ellie said when she entered, even though he could tell she was anxious. She closed the door and glanced outside, making sure no one was paying attention to them. Her clothes were damp and drops of water were falling from her hair. Alec breathed deeply. She had brought a smell of after rain with her. 

“Didn’t do what I asked,“ he said, even though he knew that wasn’t what she was talking about. “Ya alright?“

“Fine. Why? I shouldn’t?“ she said, arching an eyebrow in surprise. 

Alec shrugged. “Ye were late. I thought…“ Embarrassed, he turned toward his office and headed to his chair.

“Fred was sick,“ Ellie explained as she sat on the leather couch, keeping her voice low so that no one would hear them through the wall. “Puked on me in the car. I had to go back home to get the both of us in clean clothes. Anyway,“ she looked at him seriously, “we can’t talk about this.“ She waved her hand between them with a frown. “Not yet, at least.“

Alec nodded. “People could make wrong assumptions.“

“And it’d be a bit… harsh for the kids,“ she added. “Have you talked to Daisy?“

He shook his head. “She knows I’ve gone out with someone yesterday, but doesn’t know who. She’s good, though. She already suspects it’s someone she knows.“

Ellie smiled. “Got it from her father.“ Alec smiled at the compliment and made himself comfortable in the desk chair. If he could, he would be sitting next to her instead. Damned glass walls. 

“So,“ he said, letting the syllable linger and putting his fingertips together, “yesterday was nice.“

Ellie leaned back in the couch and crossed her legs with a small smirk. “It was,“ she agreed. “Might be good enough for me to be tempted to repeat it.“

It might have been a long time since Alec had last flirted with someone, but it somehow felt natural in the moment. He leaned over the desk and clasped his hands together, as if he was talking about a case with her. “And when would that be?“

Ellie was about to answer when a knock on the door startled them both. Ellie straightened up and Alec lost his smile to go back to his rigid self. 

“Enter,“ he said. 

DC Velt appeared, a folder in her hand. “For you, sir,“ she said. 

“Just, put it here,“ he told her, strangely agreeable. She did so and left, but not without throwing them a suspicious glance. 

“We should be more careful,“ Ellie said as soon as the door was closed. “Just this morning, I was asked who I was seeing because Denyll saw my car yesterday night. Couldn’t make out who was in the passenger seat but he’s curious.“

“What did you say?“ Alec asked, his lips clamped together to hide the laugh that threatened to come out. 

“Told him to sort his life out before getting into those of others,“ she said, pulling a face at her own rudeness. “You have a bad influence on me.“ She looked reproachfully at him. 

He shook his head. “That’s bollocks, Milla. You already had that in you, I’m just an excuse to get it out.“

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe you should be turning it down if you’re gonna stay here. You being an asshole drives everyone away.“

“Not _everyone_ apparently,“ he said with a meaningful look. Her face turned an interesting shade of red. She made as if she was gonna leave with a _‘or so you think’_ face. “Not so fast, Milla,“ he stopped her before she could get to the door. He glanced at the clock. “CS Jenkinson's coming, she has a case for us.“

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms. “And you couldn't say that before I promised Dean to help him with his paperwork, could ya?“ 

Before Alec could reply that he had gotten Jenkinson’s message just half an hour before, the CS walked in, an heavy file in hand. She nodded at them both. 

“Hardy, Miller,“ she greeted them, handing the papers to her DI. “We have an argon on Austen Street, you’re in charge.“

Ellie scowled. “Shouldn’t it be for the fire department?“

Jenkinson shook her head. “They lack resources. I'm trusting you with this. Good luck.“

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I planned the whole fic, so that's done and I know where I'm going (even though it feels like driving straight up toward a wall, the accelerator flat on the floor, 100mph, with me screaming at the wheels but anyway).  
> Hope you enjoyed :)


	4. Sparks

Despite her attempts to hide it, Ellie’s anxiety was obvious. Alec had been reading people for too long to miss it. It was crucial when confronting a suspect, but in this moment, he couldn’t decide whether it was a blessing or a curse. The case’s file was closed on his laps. They should probably have been reading it, but he wanted to make sure Ellie was in her right mind before starting.

“Yer cold?“ he asked when she opened her window for the third time. The light turned green and she pressed the accelerator pedal on the floor. The car jumped forward with a roar without, by some miracle, stalling.

  “Na,“ she said distractedly, her voice tenser than usual. “Is it a hidden message to ask me to turn up the temperature?“

“Are ye kidding?“ Alec said. “I’m burning. Doesn’t it get ever cold here?“ His clothes were stuck to his skin by perspiration and drops of sweat were running down his neck. The window on his own side was wide open, letting the wind bring some fresh air—and the smell of sea and petrol—inside.

“You’re in the only part of England that doesn’t freeze before November,“ Ellie replied. She flashed him a bright cruel smile. “Enjoy!“

Alec muttered curses under his breath. Summer had never been his favourite season, and learning that autumn was delayed didn’t brighten his day in any way. What was it with people and summer anyway? Sunburns, tourists, total absence of rain, the way it made wearing a suit horrible,… In short, hell. 

When he tore his eyes from the buildings of Broadchurch’s downtown and its inhabitants and looked at her again, Ellie was chewing her lips, her fingers drumming on the wheel. Alec frowned. 

“Ellie,“ he said. Startled by the soft and easy way he used her first name, Ellie slowed the car from the worrying speed she had been driving at.

“What?“

“What’s wrong?“ 

Her eyebrows shoot up in a surprised expression. “Nothing’s wrong. Well, except for the owners of the burned building, I guess. God, that must be horrible. Loosing everything like this…“

He could almost believe it. Almost. But there was this little tone in her voice that told him it wasn’t quite true. He wanted to do this right, really. But they were almost arrived and this needed to be sorted out before. “Ellie,“ he repeated.

She lost the fake smile that had been plastered on her lips and shook her head slightly. “Look, I don’t wanna talk about it. Not now, not like this.“

He nodded. Knowing that he had been right didn’t make him feel better. Torn between two sides of himself, one that wanted to be kind and considerate, and another built on years of experiences, he stayed silent for some time. “It’s just… A detective who isn’t focused is no good, neither for them or the case,“ he said eventually, hoping that is was the right words. 

Ellie snorted. “Yeah, sure. Let’s worry for the case.“

He knew he had screwed up simply by the tone of her words. The DI in him wanted to make sure his DS was in the best conditions to investigate, but he trusted Ellie—she and Daisy were probably the only people he trusted—and if she thought she could manage it, he was ready to believe her. 

Not wanting to aggravate his case nor make her feel worst, he plunged a hand in one of his jacket’s pocket. “Still better than paperwork,“ he said with a small smile; offering her a kit-kat—he always had some with him in case she got upset. “I trust ye.“

They stopped at a red light and she eyed the piece of chocolate warily.

“Damnit!“ she sighted as she grabbed it, yelling to its appeal. She tore the plastic apart and took a bite. “Go on, then. We do have a case.“

Repressing a small smirk, Alec put his glasses on and took the first page of the pack.

“Alright, er…“ He squinted to try and decipher the scribble. “A fire started in a pizzeria on Austen Street at 5:37am today. The fire-fighters were called at 5:43 by the neighbours, arrived at 5: 55 and stopped the fire around 6:20. By the time, the whole place had turned to ashes. When they examined the scene, they found an oil barrel and other evidences that would indicate criminal intentions.“

“Did they start asking if there was any witness?“ Ellie asked. 

“No, they didn’t,“ he said, looking through the rest of the report. “The owners, Jane and Ed Lucas, arrived ten minutes after the fire was extinguished. Not a good way to start the day.“

Ellie arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to be funny?“

“Am I?“ She looked at him as if horns had started to grow on his forehead. He shrugged. “Just sayin’, I wouldn’t want to wake up and discover my dream was gone.“

“How would you know it was their dream?“

“Most people who own a pizzeria that isn’t part of a big company dreamed of it,“ he said matter-of-factly. He was about to keep reading but Ellie cut him. 

“Was it your dream to be a detective?“ she asked. 

Alec froze. Was it a serious question or had she simply voiced out a passive thought? She was looking at the road and nothing in her manner gave him any clue. 

“I dunno,“ he said. “I… I’ve always liked puzzles and, ye know, piecing stuff together so that it’d make a bigger image. Being a detective, it seemed sort of… natural?“ She nodded and, just like that, the subject was gone and they were back to the case. 

***

They were greeted on the crime scene by a small crowd of wanderers who had huddled around the yellow ribbon. The firetruck was still there, oddly standing among the police cars. Firefighters and cops were coming in and out of what had been a small familial restaurant. Its windows were black with ashes, and what was visible from the open door looked destroyed and lost. 

“Who’s in charge?“ Alec asked a young constable after getting out of the car. The hard sun was roasting his neck, and the smell of burned wood was making him sick. The younger man pointed at a tall woman dressed in a red inflammable suit. She was talking to her subordinates, her cask stuck under an arm. 

The two detectives headed toward her. 

“Ye alright?“ Alec asked, noticing that Ellie avoided to look at the building.

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, ask me that one more time and I’ll kick you so hard you’ll be wondering whether you’re alright or not for the rest of your life.“

“Calm down, Milla,“ he said in a peaceful way. “I’m just worried. Ye’ve been actin’ strange since we got that case and I’ve a right to ask as yer-“ He trailed off. As her what? Superior? Yes, obviously, but was that really why he was worried? As her boyfriend? Was that what he was? They weren't bloody teenagers anymore. Thankfully, the Captain arrived before Ellie, who was looking at him with wide eyes, could ask anything. 

“I'm Captain Guarny,“ the woman said as she shook hands with them. “I understand that you are the detectives in charge of the investigation?“

“Yes,“ Ellie nodded. “Are the owners still here?“ Captain Guarny nodded toward a caucasian couple sat on a bench, a few meters away from the main agitation. 

“They got here a few hours ago and don’t want to leave,“ the Captain said. “I told them they should go home, calm down and call their insurance but they wouldn’t listen.“

“They’ve probably lost everything,“ Alec said harshly. “All gone in flames. ‘Course they don’t wanna leave. Have you secured the scene?“

Captain Guarny scowled. “Well, yes, we did,“ she said. “It’s not our first fire, you know.“ Ellie smirked at this little attack. 

“Have ye made sure no one disturbed the evidences?“ he asked. 

“Yes.“

“Have ye evacuated the building?“

“Yes.“

“Have ye started to take pictures?“

The Captain’s lips were pressed into a white slash by now. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating,“ she hissed between clenched teeth, “but this is not our job. That is your’s. _You_ ’re the police. Do your goddamn job!“

At his point, probably fearing they would come to hands, Ellie stepped between them but not before Alec could replied with a good old swearing. 

“You, stop being such an ass,“ she said sharply, looking pointedly at Hardy, arms crossed over her chest. She glared at him for a few more seconds before turning to the Captain. “Is it okay for us to go in?“ she asked with a friendly voice. 

The other woman stared at Alec before nodding slowly. She turned around and walked away without another word. 

“What the bloody hell was that!“ Ellie shrieked as soon as she was gone. “What the hell do you have after firefighters to make you fuck with them so much as too almost make us banned from our own crime scene? What the bloody fucking hell, Hardy!“

He froze at the use of his last name before remembering that they were in a public place. Shaking himself, he tried to reply like he normally would. 

“Evidences are crucial, Milla,“ he said with a shrug. “And those firefighters aren’t trustworthy.“

“You don’t trust anyone,“ she retorted. 

Alec was about to repeat his earlier statement but thought better of it. “We’re goin’ in,“ he said instead. He made his way to the door, trusting Ellie to follow him among the rushing officers and constables, before realising she hadn’t moved.

Looking backward, he saw her standing in the same spot, glassy eyes fixed at the roasted building. Had she not suddenly shook her head, he would have taken her away and ask for the third time what was matter. But she made him sign to go alone, pointing at the owners and back to herself, then at him and the pizzeria behind. He nodded and looked at her turning and walking to the bench. 

***

Holding a piece of clothe over his mouth and nose to try and keep the putrid odour at bay, Alec made his way among what was left of the tables and chairs. The pieces of wood that had survived both fire and water were laying on the floor, the black colour they had turned into was making them hardly recognisable under the ashes. On the walls, the paint was peeling off and hanging loosely, like the pages of an over-read book. 

Wanting to start from the beginning, he walked to the oil barrel that was standing behind the counter and put on a pair of white gloves. There wasn’t any mark on it, nothing that would indicate its provenance. Four holes had been drilled at the bottom. Black ashes were covering the inside. 

“Obvious,“ he muttered, tearing the gloves off his hands. 

“What is?“ a voice asked from behind, startling him. He spun around. Captain Guarny was standing straight, eyebrow furrowed with annoyance and curiosity. Alec nodded toward the barrel. 

“Ye haven’t examined it, have ye?“ he barked. She looked dagger, clearly not appreciating his tone.

“What are yo-“

“Answer the question,“ he cut her, his voice raising slightly. “Have. Ye. Examined. It?“

She stayed silent for a full minute, gauging him. “No,“ she said, eventually. “My men did.“

“Right, tell them their bloody useless idiots then. Cause if ye had taken the pain to actually just look at it, ye would’ve seen that.“ He pointed to the holes. “Can ye explain to me how, in which universe, a barrel with four holes pierced in its bottom could’ve contained any liquid? Or have I travelled to another dimension when I passed the bloody door of this place?“

The Captain squatted to examine it herself, not believing what he was saying. She could not, however, deny the evidence. Leaving her at it, the DI started to look at the surroundings more attentively, lifting some broken furnitures, brushing off the dust on some places he wanted to see more clearly, observing the floor, careful not to miss anything. When he came back to the Captain, she was standing up, lips pinched, eyes hard. 

“Tell me,“ he said, fist clenched around what he had found by doing some actual search, “are ye really as useless as ye appear to be?“ He was surprised when she didn’t punched him in the face. 

“What if you threw away your insults and started to talk as a professional adult?“ she replied. A few officers had stopped working to stare at them. 

He stepped forward, close enough he could see her pupils dilate and her nostrils flare in anger. “This,“ he hissed, opening his hand to reveal the golden lighter he had found a minute earlier, “is not what I call professional. Ye didn’t examined the scene, ye just bothered to close it up.“ 

“Like I told you before,“ she said with a barely controlled manner, “it is not out job to investigate. We don’t have any experience with that. We are here to help the people, not attack them. That is _your_ job, from what I can see.“ She leaned in. “You’re lucky to have her,“ she whispered. “There isn’t many people who could tolerate you.“ She took a step backward, but her next words stung like darts. “I don't think you do deserve her.“ On this, she turned around and headed to the door, leaving him shaking and breathing heavily. 

“A burnt barrel,“ he shouted at her retreating back, “that’s what it is!“ It didn’t feel like a victory. His thinking that she was right was probably why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay (and the shortness of the chapter, the next ones shall be longer).  
> Hope you liked it.


	5. Secrets

Ellie headed toward the desperate couple with what, she hoped, looked like confidence. There was no need for them to deal with a DS who wasn’t fully present. That wasn’t fair, and she’d be damned if she was going to inflict that to them. Stopping a few meters away from the bench, she patted her pockets as if searching for something—she did take a pen and her small notebook out— and gave herself some time to breathe. 

“Put yourself together,“ she muttered. It felt wrong, being here. Up to this day, she had thought she was over the- over what had happened, had been for a long time. Apparently, she had  been lying to herself. However, now was neither the time nor the place to dive into painful memories. 

Reaching the two victims with three wide steps, she stood before them with a sympathetic  smile plastered on her lips.

Jane Lucas had an arm around her husband’s shoulders. She was whispering in his ear, hidden behind long black hair. Ed Lucas, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands, was nodding to what she was saying. When Ellie arrived, he was the only one to rise his head.

Ellie coughed, startling Mrs. Lucas who, when she finally looked at her, seemed surprise to see a police-officer on the scene. A flash of something passed in her eyes, but it was too fast for Ellie to identify it. 

“Hello, Mrs. Lucas, Mr. Lucas,“ Ellie greeted them, shaking their hands. Mr. Lucas’ grip was feeble. “I’m DS Miller. If it is alright with you, we have to do the preliminary interview. It will help us to start the investigation, so that we don’t loose any time.“

“So it’s criminal,“ Mrs. Lucas said. “Are you sure of it?“ Her hand was still on her husband’s shoulder, hugging him tightly. Ellie had the impression that it wasn’t as much to comfort him as to ground herself in reality. 

“Yes,“ Ellie said. “There’s multiple evidences suggesting that it wasn’t accidental. We-“

“You’ll catch the bastard who did that,“ Mrs. Lucas interrupted her. Her lips were pressed tight, her face as cold as stone as she stared right into Ellie’s eyes.

“We’ll do our best.“

Mrs. Lucas nodded and relaxed in her seat. 

“Would you prefer to go somewhere else? We could go to your home, or the police station.“

Mr. Lucas, who had stayed silent since Ellie’s arrival, shook his head. He rubbed his red and swollen eyes with a tired hand, but never letting the burned restaurant out of his sight. 

“No,“ he said with a thick voice. “I don’t- I can’t leave it. No just yet.“

A bitter smile appeared on his wife’s lips. 

“Alright, let’s begin then. What’s the name of your insurance company?“

“Axacare,“ Mrs. Lucas answered. “We signed up a year ago. I’m not even sure whether they’ll help us…“

“Do you have any other employment apart from the restaurant?“

“I work in a library three evenings a week. It helps pay the bills while Ed focuses on the restaurant.“

“Do you have any idea as to who could have done it?“ Ellie asked over the scratch of pen on paper.

“I can’t believe anyone we know would do that,“ Mr. Lucas said desperately. “They wouldn’t. No one would.“

“I can’t think of anyone,“ Mrs. Lucas backed him up. “There isn’t much competition here. Tourists are too many to hold in one tiny restaurant, so everyone has their share.“

“No one who would want a revenge?“ Ellie insisted. 

“No.“

“One last question,“ Ellie said. “How many employees do you have?“

“Three,“ Mr. Lucas answered. 

Ellie finished writing and closed her notebooks. “It will be all for now,“ she told the couple, “but we’ll need their names and contacts. A constable will explain the formalities to you and answer your questions. Don’t be afraid to ask whatever you want, we’re here to help.“

Mrs. Lucas thanked her and Ellie turned away, leaving them in peace. She was walking toward the crowd—firefighters, uniforms and forensics were still fussing around—when she saw Captain Guarny storm out of the building, soon followed by Alec. 

The DI stopped and stared angrily at his predecessor. From where she stood, Ellie could see his fists shaking. He turned his head in her direction and spot her coming toward him in the mass of people. He threw another nasty glance at the Captain before joining his DS. 

“What have you done?“ Ellie asked as soon as they were close enough. She had a hand on her hip, and was decided to see it through.

“Nothing,“ he grumbled. He tipped his head toward a clear space, and they headed away from the chaos. Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Bollocks,“ she replied. “I swear, if you try to fight with them, Jenkinson will throw you to the wolves. She’ll have no pity.“ 

Alec shrugged. “What have ye got?“ he asked, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets and looking away.

“Not much,“ she began. “Insurance is Axacare, signed up a year ago. Mrs. Lucas works at the library three evenings a week to pay the bills. Three employees. And they have no idea who could’ve done that. According to them, there’s no competition between the restaurants.“

“Sounds odd,“ Alec said. “One of them could have decided that the Lucas had too many costumers.“

“That's what I thought,“ Ellie agreed. “Something strange though, Mrs. Lucas, she’s already using past tense when talking about it. It’s as if it hadn’t happened a few hours ago but a few days.“

“Uh.“

“What have _you_ got then?“ she asked. 

“Burned barrel,“ Alec said. He was looking at the officers and scientists running one way and the other, sometimes bumping into each other. “Those bloody firefighters are bloody useless, that’s for sure.“

“Oh, so that’s what you two were arguing about.“

“If people could do their job, there wouldn’t be any argument,“ he retorted. 

“Not their job,“ Ellie said cheekily.

“Whatever,“ he mumbled. “Come on, we need to know more about the insurance. If the wife sounds suspicious and worked another job, she could very well have done that.“

“She did say that the insurance might not pay them,“ Ellie said as they headed toward the car. Alec sighted.

“People l-“ 

“-ie, Milla,“ she finished. “I know that. I bet if you start saying ‘Everybody lies’ they’ll call you ‘Dr. House’ at the station.“

“What’s that?“ he asked, a deep frown on his face. Ellie stopped.

“You can reel out Shakespeare but don’t know one of the most famous tv show of those last few years?“ she said. “You know what? I’m not even surprised.“

“I do have some culture,“ Alec defended himself as he opened the car door. “I know…“

Ellie waited, head’s tilted on the side, staring straight at him, the edge of her lips turned up into a small smirk. Before her, Alec was concentrating on some forgone memories.

“Doctor Who,“ he said eventually. 

“Who doesn’t know that,“ Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Do you know anything that isn’t more than 50 years-old?“

“Oh, shut up, Millah,“ Alec exclaimed, sitting in the passenger seat.

Ellie shook her head with exasperation but entered the car anyway. 

 

***

 

An hour later, the two detectives had been lead into a small office with white-walls and frosted windows. Were it not for the messy desk on which papers and files had been piled up hurriedly next to a sign reading _Martha Wong_ , Ellie would have felt as if she had been put behind bars. She was sat on a hard chair, with her leg furiously bouncing up and down.

The air conditioning was buzzing in her ears, making it hard to think about the case—about anything, really. The clock, hung hight on the wall before her, ticked 11:00am. She pursed her lips, annoyed at the insurance agent who would not come. 

Suddenly, a hand pushed on her knee, forcing her leg to stop. 

“Calm down,“ Alec said with a thick accent. “We haven’t even been here for five minutes.“

Ellie stared at him incredulously. “ _You_ ’re the one saying that?“ she said.“You, Mr. I-can’t-wait-for-Miller-to-finish-eating-so-I’m-gonna-storm-out-and-she’ll-probably-follow-me-because-we’re-on-a-case? _You_ ’re the one telling me to calm down!“

“It was just a suggestion,“ he shrugged, taking his hand back. Ellie’s leg stayed still. 

“I know,“ she sighed, passing a hand over her face. “Sorry, it’s just… I don’t like being confined in close spaces. Makes me feel trapped.“

“My office is this size and you have no problem stayin’ in it,“ Alec remarked.

“It has glass walls.“

Before he could reply, the door in their back burst open and startled them. Ellie looked at the  new-comer, a woman who crossed the room with her nose deep into a bunch of documents. Tall with short black hair and a neat black and white suit, she was exactly like Ellie had always imagined insurance agents—though her own, a small paunchy man, was quite different. 

Mrs. Wong passed behind her desk, put down her papers and looked at the two detectives for the first time. 

“Hello,“ she greeted them with a smile, shaking their hands before sitting in the black office chair. “I understand that you’re from the police?“

“Yes,“ Ellie confirmed, straightening up and showing her badge. “We have some questions about two of your clients, Mrs and Mr. Lucas.“ She heard Alec’s pen click as he prepared to take notes. 

Mrs. Wong nodded and turned to search for a file on her computer, the blue light softly glowing on her face. 

“I remember them,“ she said as she clicked multiple times on the mouse. “They have a restaurant in Broadchurch, right? Austen street? A pizzeria.“

“That’s them,“ Ellie nodded. 

“And here they are,“ Mrs. Wong said at the same time. “What do you need to know?“

“What are the terms of the insurance?“

“It’s our standard ones for restaurants. Property insurance, general liability, liquor liability, workers compensations, unemployment insurance, life insurance and fire insurance.“ Ellie glanced at Alec when she heard the last words. 

“Is there other options they could have taken?“

“Yes. We also propose insurances for loss of business, food contaminations and specific perils. They did have the loss of business one—“ she squinted at her screen “—but it was redeemed a month ago.“

“Was it a mutual decision?“

The agent shook her head. “I can’t tell you that,“ she replied. “It’s not written in the file, and  I was on vacation at that time.“

“Alright,“ Ellie nodded. “Could you tell us more about the fire insurance?“

In the end, the informations they had discovered were reduced into a small bullet-points list Ellie wrote after seeing Alec’s scribbles, and to which she added her own observations. 

 

    * _5:37am (start) — 5:43 (call firefighters) — 5:55 (arrived) — 6:20 (extinguished)_



 

    * _Axacare (1 year ago) — Until 11/01/2019_
    * _Mrs. L: library, three evenings a week_
    * _No suspects/competition/revenge_
    * _Mrs. L: past tense (odd?)_



 

    * _Burned barrel_



 

    * _Property/General liability/Liquor liability/Workers compensation/Unemployment/Life (Basics)_
    * _Loss of Business (Option) - Canceled 1 month ago (By who? Mutual decision?)_
    * _Fire_ _insurance (Basics): Actual Cash Value instead of Replacement Cost (35 000£)_
    * _Solicited by Mrs. L._
    * _Delinquent payment — report asked by Mr. L. 2 weeks ago (does Mrs. knows?)_



 

As she starred at those facts, the possibility that either Mrs. or Mr. Lucas—or the both of them together—had set their own restaurant on fire seemed more plausible by the minute. Why would they cancel the Loss of Business Insurance so suddenly, without taking advice from their agent? Why reporting the payment? It could, indeed, be for utterly normal reasons, but she had worked on too many cases to pass it off as nothing. 

“What do you think?“ she asked as she settled the loop of her bag on her shoulder. Alec was walking at her side, obviously lost into his own thoughts. 

“Could be insurance fraud,“ he said, confirming her theory. “We need to interrogate them, the sooner the better. Separately.“

“Mr. Lucas first then,“ Ellie added. “He’s more lost than his wife. If she’s guilty, I think she’s more likely to rang him and tell him to lie. He was pretty much out of it.“ Alec’s eyebrow shot up in an annoying satisfied expression. 

“What?“ Ellie asked, staring at his face.

“Told you it was his dream.“

“Stop being a smart-ass and get into the bloody car,“ she retorted. He put his elbow on the car’s roof and leaned in instead. 

“I’m your boss, Millah,“ he stated in a serious voice.

Not paying any attention to it, Ellie got into the vehicle and started the motor. “You can’t play this card now that you’ve taken me on a date. Not that it ever worked, anyway,“ she said matter-of-factly. “Besides, it doesn’t stop everyone from calling you ‘shit-face’.“

“They still do it!“ Alec exclaimed, sitting in the passenger seat. “Thought they had stopped.“

“Course they do.“

“That’s insubordination.“

“Yes, it is. Never stopped me,“ she replied. The motor roared and, still bickering, they started their way back to Broadchurch. 

 

They were almost arrived when Ellie’s stomach began to gurgle. A few years back, she would have blushed and said it was nothing—and would have suffer from hunger during the whole afternoon. However, much time had passed and many events had happened since the day she would have let Alec Hardy starve the both of them.

Pulling off at one of the best bakery in town, and royally ignoring Alec’s protestations—they would not solve the case quicker by avoiding lunch—she entered the small shop. The smell of hot bread and fresh pastries assaulted her as soon as she pushed the door. Mrs. Milton, a small elderly woman who always offered a little something to Fred when he came with his mother, greeted her with a huge smile. A few kind words during which Ellie learned about Mrs. Milton’s son—an old friend of Ollie who had left the countryside as soon as possible—and a few pounds later, she was walking out with a heavy plastic bag. Alec, who was leaning on the car with his arms crossed, scowled at it. 

“You don’t really think we’re gonna eat inside my car, do you?“ Ellie said as he made to open the door. He froze, not daring to answer. She shook her head fondly. “Come on, there’s a nice spot over there. I got you a salad.“

True to her words, she lead him toward a park on the bank of Broadchurch’s river. There were couples, friends and families sat on the benches and toddlers running in the playground. Much to Alec’s disgust, Ellie sat on the lawn after making sure no better place was available. 

“Don’t tell me the worst cop of Britain is afraid of grass,“ she joked when he stayed up. He sighed but took off his jacket, laid it flat and sat on it, all under Ellie’s gaze. “Such a princess,“ she muttered. 

The sun was hight in the sky, and the temperature had risen since the morning, making the soft breeze that shook her hair most welcomed. Alec rolled up his sleeves as she took the food out of her bag and handed him a plastic box. 

“What’s this?“ he asked, wrinkling his nose and leaning away. 

“Salad without octopus,“ she said with a wink. He took the box and eyed it carefully before taking the plastic fork. Seeing that he had made peace with the poor food, Ellie took a bite of own sandwich—tuna and tomatoes—and tipped her head back, letting the sun-rays wash over her face. A seagull flew over her. 

“How do ye know this place?“ Alec asked a minute later. “It’s not near yer house. I’ve never been to this part of the town.“ Ellie looked at him. He was playing with the lettuce but it didn’t seem like he had eaten anything at all.

“I couldn’t go to the usual parks during Joe’s—“ she looked down and took a deep breath—“during Joe’s trial. It wasn’t fair for Fred not to be allowed to enjoy summer, so I looked for places where I was sure no one I knew would be. This one was my favourite. We spend quite a lot of time here, before you came with the Sandbrook case.“

“It’s nice.“

Ellie chuckled. “You hate it, admit it,“ she said.

“I don’t! Might even take Daisy here to eat, one day,“ he said. Surprised, Ellie—who had been half-lying on the grass—sat upright. 

“Really?“ she exclaimed. Alec nodded. 

He looked oddly peaceful, sat cross-legged with a take-away meal in his hands. His eyes were lost somewhere further in the park—remembering the time when it was Daisy who was in the playground, Ellie guessed. She stayed silent, not knowing what to say and not particularly disturbed by the lack of conversation. 

Once her sandwich finished, she threw the paper in the nearest trash. When she came back, Alec’s salad wasn’t even half-eaten. She took the same position as before, but this time putting her head in his laps. If her cheeks burned slightly, she took no notice of it. 

“Oi!“ he said for the form, pushing his hands away. “What are you doing, Millah!“

“We’re not leaving ‘till you’ve eaten your salad,“ she said, making herself comfortable. “Seriously, you look like a skeleton.“

“You’re insufferable.“

“You’re a knob-head.“ 

She heard him grumble but he accepted his situation and went back to chewing the tomato and cucumber. At one point, Ellie felt his hands playing with her hair, and smiled softly at the sensation. It was nice. She was dozing off—between the warmness on her skin and his fingers on her head, she couldn’t resist—when he spoke again. 

“What’s _your_ nickname?“ he asked.

“What?“

“I’m not the only one, am I? You must have one too, or had when you arrived.“

Ellie’s cheeks flushed bright red. “And why would I tell you that?“

“It can’t be worst than ‘shit face’,“ he encouraged her, gently stroking her neck. Ellie bit her lips. 

“I’m not telling you,“ she persisted. “Do you think she could really have set fire to the restaurant, knowing how important it was for her husband?“ 

The diversion was obvious, but Alec let it go. He took his time to answer.

“I think,“ he said eventually, “that given the right circumstances, everything is possible. They could have been needing money or havin’ couple problems.“

“Our job is pretty depressing, isn’t it,“ Ellie sighed. 

“But we chose it,“ Alec concluded. “Lunch time’s up, come on.“ He tapped gently on Ellie’s brow until she moved her head. He stood up and brushed some crumbs off his suit. 

“You’re no fun,“ Ellie groaned as she imitated him and stretched her limbs.

“And yer not off the hook,“ he said, pointing at her. “I will know this nickname, one way or another.“

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, finally. I hope you enjoyed and I'll start working on the next chapter as soon as possible.


	6. About secrets

 

When they arrived, the scene had been cleared up and the few people composing the crowd of curious bystanders were simply taking a quick glance and talking among themselves before walking away minutes later. The two officers left on the scene were standing near the cars. Scientists wearing white uniforms were going to and from the building in a continuous circle, carefully holding plastic bags and samples. Alec noticed, with a barely repressed smile, that no fire-fighter was to be seen.

The two detectives headed toward the officers, having chosen to see whether there was new informations before going to the Lucas’. As they approached, DC Hartford emerged from behind the police lorry with a phone stuck to her ear. She hung up when she caught sight of her superiors. 

“Sir,“ she greeted them with a curt nod. “Two constables are doing door to door to see if someone has seen anything, and taking witness testimonies. We don’t have much hopes, though. Not many people are awake before 6am.“

“You’d be surprised,“ Ellie muttered, too low for Hartford to hear. 

Alec’s gaze flew over the working scientists. Argons rarely left evidences; fire tended to destroy them all. He walked past Hartford without giving her any reply—the DC was too used to his mannerism to be offended— and went toward the chief scientist. He was scribbling on a file next to an open truck. 

“Ye have anything yet?“ Alec asked as Ellie and Hartford joined him.

“Hello,“ the scientist replied without raising his head. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, detective.“ Alec took a deep inspiration and crossed his arms in a way that would have frighten more than one person, but it was to no effect. The scientist took his time to finish writing, closed the file and looked straight at them.

“No, we don’t have ‘anything yet,’” the scientist continued. “Science isn’t just shouting at people like detective work seems to be. You’ll have my report as soon as it’s ready.” He nodded at Ellie and Hartford before heading toward his team.

“Thank’s Arthur,“ Ellie shouted in a friendly voice. He looked back and smiled, waving his hand as a goodbye, to which she replied in the same way.“Keep going like this and you’ll not only fight the firefighters but also the whole bunch of scientists who help us solve our cases,“ she shrieked at Alec once Arthur had stopped looking. “You could at least be polite with them, even if you don’t remember their name.“

Alec shrugged. “Ye’re polite with people and then they start talking ‘bout their life and their problems and before you know it, they’re asking you to help them move out the next week-end or drive them to the airport or stuff like that,“ he said, standing stiff to stress his point. “Hartford,“—he turned toward the DC—“me and DS Miller are going to the Lucas’. Once you’ve finished here, go back to the station and search for any similar case in the area. If we have a pyromaniac, we need to catch them before they have the chance to burn anything else. Miller, with me.“

The street was a long succession of two-stories houses occasionally interrupted by a small restaurant, an old bookshop or a local grocery. Tall trees were lined up on the sidewalk. Their red leaves had started to fall, turning the pavement into a red-orange painting. 

“Not getting much sleep, then?“ Alec asked as they walked past a greyish house from which shoutings were coming out. A strong argument, it seemed to be. He wondered briefly whether they should stay around lest it turned violent but, as he was considering calling some uniforms as a precaution, two women stormed out of the front door. One of them got into a red convertible, indifferent to her wife’s supplications. 

“What do you mean?“ Ellie said absent-mindedly. She was starring at the domestic. The car turned at the end of the street and she tore her eyes from it to look at Alec. 

“Not many people awake before 6am?“ he explained, alluding to the previous conversation. A lock of hair fell before Ellie’s eyes. She brushed it away and shed her eyes from the sun with her hand.

“Fred’s difficult those days,“ she said. “Nightmares and all.“

“Uh, I remember that,“ Alec said. “Daisy had a whole period when she’d wake up at 3 and insisted on us reading her a story before going back to bed. It lasted for months. I could recite ‘The little mermaid’ eyes closed after this.“ His heart ached when he remembered those days, and all the others he had missed. 

“The joys of being a parent,“ Ellie concluded. 

They fell silent, each of them going from thinking about the difficulties of being a single-parent to listing the different questions they should ask the Lucas, and all they would have to look for once in the flat. 

Two blocks away from where the domestic had taken place, the houses morphed into a serial of tall and decaying buildings. The washed-out facades, the dried flowers on the balconies, and the wheel-less bicycles were clues to the economical situation of the inhabitants. The smell of petrol was everywhere. It was with relief that they entered the hall of _Keats Tower, 18_ _Shelley Street_.

 

When they rung at the door of apartment 101B, it was Mr. Lucas who opened the door. Even though Alec had only taken a glance at him earlier, he could tell that the man looked much worst. His eyes were red, his hair was disheveled and sticking in every direction and he was wearing loose clothes with an old overused plaid thrown over his shoulders. They could hear a football match playing on a TV in the living-room. Mr. Lucas blinked a few times and parted his lips, but no sound came out of them. He was as lost as a child left alone in Piccadilly Circus during the summer holidays. 

“Mr. Lucas,“ Ellie said while Alec took out his badge and showed it to the man. “I’m DS Miller. I talked to you this morning. And this is DI Hardy. Can we come in?“

Mr. Lucas passed a hand over his face as if to chase away the exhaustion and turmoil that the day had brought. “Yeah, sure,“ he stammered. He pushed himself on the side of the doorway to let the detectives in. 

The living-room had a musty smell that reminded Alec of his darkest days after the Sandbrook case debacle. The dim light and drawn curtains made of a heavy burgundy material created a closed atmosphere so that, even though it was early afternoon outside, he had the impression of being awake in the middle of the night. It was a small messy room littered with clutter. A couch with a brown stitched pillow was taking most of the space. A blanket was rolled up in a ball on it, and the cushions were sagged, as if someone had been sleeping there for some time. The TV was set on a small wooden stand with some DVDs piled up next to it. Behind it, a black stain was spoiling the flowery wallpaper. The dinner table was pushed in a corner and a mackintosh was hanging on one of the three chairs around it. Some notebooks had been left there. 

“You’re daughter’s in hight school?“ Ellie asked when she saw them. She had this happy smile she would use with suspects when they still thought they were safe. Bad cop, good cop. That was their game. 

“Yes,“ Mr. Lucas simply answered. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. Were it not for the the footsteps on the ceiling or the low buzz of the refrigerator, it would have been a very silent room.

“My boy’s too,“ Ellie said. “He’s fifteen. They’re—“

Letting Ellie do the talking, Alec wandered around. There was only one photo in the room, hanging on a wall above a dresser. Three people were smiling in it—the Lucas couple and their daughter, a little girl with braces and ponytails.

“Is there any one else?“ Ellie asked. 

“No, no. I’m alone. Please, take a seat.“ 

Alec made his way back to the two others and sat on the couch next to Ellie. Before it, the coffee table was covered with magazines and empty cans of beer. Mr. Lucas had taken the armchair and was playing with his hands, his gaze bouncing from one place to another. Alec had the distinct feeling that the man was avoiding eye contact. 

“Jane is— She’s gone at the school,“ Mr. Lucas explained. “To take Em. Emily, she’s our daughter.“

“Does she know what has happened?“ Alec asked.

“No, no,“ Mr. Lucas said. “That’s why Jane’s gone. She’s taking Em home and we’ll tell her. They shouldn’t be long now.“ He glanced at the door. “Anyway, what are you here for?“

“We have some questions,“ Ellie said. She took her notebook out of her bag. “Do you have any questions first, about anything that has happened? Or about the paperwork? The next steps? No? Alright, and how about about a cup of tea?“

Mr. Lucas shrugged, which Alec took as an affirmative answer. He stood up and walked toward the open doorway that led to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the room was on the opposite side of the rest of the flat, which considerably reduced the potential of noising around. 

From there, Alec could still hear Ellie make small talk and glean small informations from their victim-suspect’s answers.

He turned the kettle on and took some time to look around. The kitchen and the living-room seemed to belong to two entirely different worlds. In the smaller room, the fresh air smelled like pepper, cinnamon and ginger. A blank calendar—the firefighters’ calendar—and a photo of the Lucas at a restaurant were stuck on the fridge. The equipment was standard; a stove, a microwave and a toaster, all neatly cleaned, were the main appliances. The sink was empty of any dishes, a bowl-fruit full of apples and bananas was on the worktop and no trace of fingers was to be found on the cupboards. The only blotch was the can opener left out of its drawer. 

The water boiled.

“Mr. Lucas, may I ask,“ Alec said, interrupting the conservation as he carefully put two warm cups of tea on the coffee table, “who uses the kitchen the most?“ A knowing smile appeared on Mr. Lucas’ face. 

“My wife,“ he answered. “She’s a real goddess in the kitchen. You should see her“—he shook his head with fondness—“ when she’s cooking, it’s as if she was dancing. She loves it.“

“I guess she's the one cooking at the pizzeria then?“ Ellie said. She was speaking kindly, as if a low gentle tone would engage Mr. Lucas into sharing his secret. Alec was still marvelled at how differently she could act. From kindly here to firm as a rock in the interrogation room. 

Mr. Lucas nodded. He was about to speak when a loud blast came from behind the walls, followed by what Alec recognised as _Bohemian Rhapsody_. Mr. Lucas winced.

“Sorry. Those bloody neighbours— No sense of community whatsoever!“ he said with exasperation. “And they’re just under the noise limit, so we can’t even force them to stop.“

“Does that happen often?“ Ellie asked. He shrugged. 

“Now and then.“ He took one of the cup and blowed softly on it. 

Ellie cleared her throat. 

“Mr. Lucas, we’d like to talk to you about the insurance you have for the restaurant,“ she said. “Have you made any change to it recently?“

The question was followed by quite a reaction. Mr. Lucas, who had seemed appeased a second earlier, renewed with his earlier distress. His face fell and the trembling in his hand was violent enough for some tea to be spilt on his clothes. He had to put the cup back on the table.

“Not that I know about,“ he managed to say. Alec leaned forward.

“Mr. Lucas, you have to understand,“ he said. “Whatever you don’t tell us here and now, we’ll find out later. It’s in your best interest to say everything.“

Mr. Lucas swallowed hard and kept silent. He was nervously playing with the remote. Alec and Ellie exchanged a look, trying to silently discuss the best course to take.

“Jane and Em shouldn’t be long,“ Mr. Lucas said suddenly, staring at the front door. “We should do this another time.“ He smiled quickly when his eyes met Ellie’s. Too quickly for Alec’s liking.

“Mr. Lucas, we _will_ find out, whether you tell us or not,“ Ellie repeated. It was the last straw.  All of a sudden, his shoulders slumped and he seemed to shrink on himself. A long sight escaped his trembling lips.

“I’m a gambler,“ he whispered at last. Alec stiffened and he felt Ellie straighten in interest next to him. “I’ve been gambling for a long time,“ Mr. Lucas continued. “Years, even. Jane didn't know until two months back. That’s when things started to go… To go wrong. I lost a lot. More than before, and she discovered it. She thought I had a mistress. I couldn’t let her believe that, never that. We had to move out of house and come here. I tried to stop for her, I really tried. But my luck was on the turn. I knew it was. Two more days and I would’ve won all our money back. But then the restaurant burned. And now…“ He trailed off and fell silent. 

“That’s why you canceled the loss of business option a month ago,“ Ellie pushed with a soft voice. “And why the payments were delinquent.“ Mr. Lucas nodded.

“Mr. Lucas, does your wife knows about this?“ Alec said. Mr. Lucas wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“She knows about the delinquent payments, but I’ve managed to hide the loss of business option,“ he said. “I didn’t told her— I couldn’t. She’s disappointed enough.“

Alec stood up. They had what they needed. “We just have one last question,“ he said as Ellie put her notebook away. “Where were you this morning from 5 to 6am?“

Mr. Lucas looked up at him with swollen eyes. “Er, I was here. Asleep.“

“We’ll need to confirm that with you wife,“ Alec said.

 

Alec and Ellie were at the bottom of the stairs, ready to open the door and get out when it was opened for them by none other than Mrs. Lucas and her daughter. Emily Lucas was a teenager tall for her age—almost Ellie's height—and short stylish hair. She was carrying a schoolbag that had obviously been made in a hurry—torn papers were half-in half-out of the zip. Her face was pale, and her eyes shifting from the two detectives, to her mother, to the stairs.

“What are you doing here?“ Mrs. Lucas exclaimed when she saw the two detectives. Her daughter stared at them with big worried eyes. 

“Have you seen my father? How is he? What happened?“ she asked before any of them could answer to the first question. 

“We’ve just seen Mr. Lucas,“ Ellie answered. She didn’t comment on his state, which Alec could comprehend. He himself didn’t know how to qualify it, especially before his daughter. The tobacco smell of the staircase made him cough. 

“Mrs. Lucas, we’d like to speak to you,“ he said, eager to finish. She nodded and made sign to her daughter to go without her. The teenager didn’t wait any longer and sprinted up. Mrs. Lucas looked her go with a deep frown on her face. 

“She’s worried about her father,“ she explained. Alec noticed that she didn’t look disturbed at all herself. Ellie shuffled next to him. If she was about to give the woman her phone number, he would definitely give her a sermon, no apology accepted. 

“We need your alibi for yesterday evening,“ Ellie said instead. Alec’s shoulders slumped slightly with relief. 

Mrs. Lucas’ brow furrowed. “I was at home,“ she said. “Ed and I went to bed early.“ 

Alec nodded. “Mrs. Lucas,“ he began, but trailed off before finishing his sentence. It was an uncomfortable experience, meddling in two people’s relationship. He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Lucas, your husband told us about his gambling and about the delinquent payments. Do you happen to know anything about the concealment of the loss of business option of your insurance?“

She closed her eyes with a sight. Her features turned into an expression of deception and exhaustion Alec had seen on too many faces. Faces of people who had fought too long. People who had made wars, private wars, despite knowing they were already lost. People who had been holding on a string of hope and could see this hope vanish into the void. Here, between grey walls tagged with graffitis and a floor covered with chewing-gums, Mrs. Lucas let out words she had been holding a long time.

“Yes,“ she whispered. “He doesn’t know I know, does he? I couldn’t turn a blind eye after learning about all the money we have lost because of him, so I kept close tabs on all money matters. I tried to help him, I really did. He’s unreachable. I just— I don’t know if we can keep going like that.“ She passed a hand through her hair and closed her eyes. “The bills keep piling on, we’re barely holding it together. It doesn’t look like it, I know. But it’s our situation right now, and I don’t think he understand this.“

If Alec had learned anything from his years in the police, it was—apart from the traditional ‘Don’t trust anyone’—that it was better to leave too early than stay too late. Not that it had been of any help in his own private life. Professional directives, however, meant he couldn’t share this piece of knowledge with a victim—and potential suspect. 

Ellie laid a sympathetic hand on Mrs. Lucas’ shoulder. The later took a deep breath and held her head hight like a soldier going back to war. She gave the two detectives an apologetic smile and walked past them toward the stairs.

* * *

 

Back at the police station, behind the glass walls of Alec’s office, DSs and constables were sitting at their desks in an unnerving routine. No one was hurrying toward the elevator to catch a suspect, no witness giving their testimony was to be seen. The only sign of the ongoing investigation was the usually blank board that was now displaying facts, hours and names. 

“You’ve seen the couch? Between it and the slippers that’ve been kicked under it, you can be sure he’s been sleeping there for some time,“ Ellie said. She was sitting on the couch, elbows on her knees and hands clasped under her chin. Her blazer had been thrown next to her, and she had rolled up the sleeves of her white shirt. 

Alec hummed in agreement. 

“There were letters on the coffee table, under the magazines,“ she continued. “Bet you he tried to hide them when we arrived. I’ve managed to take a look at them, they’re all from the bank. They’d probably confirm what he’s told us.“

“What do you think of his alibi?“ Alec asked. He was sitting at his desk, as usual.

Ellie took a pained expression, but she quickly shrugged it off. “Both asleep? We’ve already seen that. Not reliable.“ Personal experience was in her every words.

“Could be either of them,“ Alec said. He passed a hand over his face. “According to the reports, there was no witnesses. And Hartford hasn’t found any similar cases in the region, so probably not a pyromaniac.“ He fell silent. The couple’s declarations were turning in his head. “See, I don’t understand why people do this to each other,“ he said suddenly, leaning back in his chair. “Why do they keep lying to each other? Lying to the police, I get it, but to _each other_ for god’s sake. Doesn’t marriage means anything those bloody days?“

Ellie had raised her head at his outburst, and was looking at him quizzically. “You’ve never lied to Tess, then?“ she asked. 

Alec shook his head. “Never. Wasn’t anything to lie about,“ he said. “You?“

“Me? No, I’ve never lied to Tess neither,“ she said with a small smirk. Alec didn’t insist. The chatter in the common room was getting louder as 6pm approached. A phone began to ring with insistence and smell of detergent indicated the arrival of the cleaner.

“Would you lie to me?“ Alec asked, leading the conversation away from the case. 

“Why, _have_ you lied to me would be a more appropriate question,“ Ellie said with a chuckle. She shook her head, which made her ponytail swing slowly in her back. “I probably have lied to you, and I’ll might lie to you in the future, but not for something like that. And you did lie to me too. A lot.“ Alec considered. 

“That’s right,“ he admitted.  

“We will lie to each other in the future,“ Ellie said, staring into the void as if she was speaking to herself. “But not about important matters, I think. Nah“—she smiled—“t’will be alright.“ On those words, she got up and put her blazer on.

“Doing an early night?“ Alec said with surprise. During the last months, it had been in their habits to stay late at work during cases, no matter the level of importance they had — from simple robbery to atrocious murder. 

Ellie nodded. “I promised to be home by 6:30, and I’m keeping this promise today.“ She shot a worried look at Alec. “I’m not sure how they’ll react about— about us. I’m worried Tom won’t take it well. It’s much better those days, but—“ She shook her head and sighted. 

Were it not for the potential spectators behind the walls, Alec would have come to her and try to comfort her. As it was, he had to settle for words. “It’ll be alright,“ he said. Pathetic. 

Nonetheless, a smile bloomed on Ellie’s face. “Who’s the optimistic one now?“

Alec watched her walk to the elevator and disappear behind the metallic door. He was about to get back to work when his own phone started to buzz. Annoyed at first, he softened when he saw the caller’s name. 

“Darlin’?“ he answered. 

“Hi dad,“ Daisy said on the other end. “Can Chloe sleep at home tonight? Yes, my homework’s all done.“ 

The station was silent now that everyone was gone. The lights had been turned off and Alec’s office was a bright island in an ocean of darkness. He turned his chair and faced the other wall. The emptiness of the usually busy place was making him uneasy. 

“Sure,“ Alec said. “I’ll cook somethin’ for you.“ 

“You’re coming home early?“ Daisy exclaimed. There was drops of happiness in her surprise. Alec glanced at his watch.

“Can’t do me wrong to come home before 7pm once or twice, can it?“ he said. “Love you.“

“Love you, dad,“ Daisy replied before hanging up. 

Grabbing the pile of files related to the case Hartford had left for him before leaving, Alec left his office. It was his earliest departure since his return from Sandbrook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be far less case-centric, I promise. Let me know what you think of this chapter :)


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